


A stone cold seduction

by redlipsredledger



Series: We go together or we don't go down at all [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky trained a killer, Clint Barton & Kate Bishop Friendship, Clint and Nat have a kid!, Clint loves her though, Clintasha - Freeform, F/M, Family life is hard for Nat, Her ex husband is a dick, Her past hurts, Kid Fic, Natasha hates her past, Natasha needs to forgive herself, None MCU compatible, Protective Kate Bishop, Red Room torment, Steve is a good uncle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-07 21:27:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19093465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlipsredledger/pseuds/redlipsredledger
Summary: Fighting to get over her past, Natasha tries her best to move on from all of the things she's been through but when her daughter hits the age she was when she was first handed a gun, it all comes flooding back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To start with, we go with Natasha's nightmare and then back into her day to day life. I don't know. It'll be crap but meh. This is the start anyway. Let me know what you think!

Running her tongue over blood red lips, Alexei pressed the gun into her hands; the feeling of cold, dead metal beneath her warm fingers reminded her of her trainer and his stone cold metal hand around her throat that morning as he growled, telling her that she had to do better, that she  _could_ do better and so, she'd pushed herself and split open the stitches on her abdomen in the process but this evening was another mission and just like the past two weeks since her injury, Natasha had no time to heal. He'd seen the blood through the grey tank top she wore in the training room that morning and he'd seized her by the arm, shaking his head in a definitive no. She wasn't allowed to bleed like that and under no circumstance was she allowed to show them weakness again. She'd been lucky to survive the first time around.

She knew what they did to those that failed, as did he; she'd watched many a girl fail a mission and have a bullet put in her head for it, sometimes she'd been the one to take the shot but these people so very rarely forgave mistakes or condoned missions that had gone awry like hers had two weeks ago. She'd caught a bullet before she'd taken down her target and the whole thing had been loud and messy, they didn't like that. She stood steadfast, determined not to show weakness as she walked into the briefing room that night and took the punishment they doled out for her failure, lowering herself onto her knees just like she'd seen a dozen girls do before her and she braced herself for the bullet.

She waited.

And waited.

And waited.

But no shot came. Instead, a rough hand yanked her to her feet and struck her across the face. A cold voice broke harsh lips and icy words sunk into her brain. 

_"You must not fail again, little spider."_

And it was a warning that she had no choice but to heed; if she'd been another girl, she'd have met her death then and there but at barely 18 years old, Natasha had shown promise no one else here had. At 18 years old, she had three times her age in kills and she'd never failed, never until that night and she supposed being the best little killer they'd turned out in decades was what had spared her life.

Looking down at the gun in her hand, she turned it over, studying it and memorising the curves and contours before she shoved it into the thigh holster strapped around the top of her leg which to her was perfectly ordinary, a normal thing that she'd done a thousand times before though here, there was no such thing as ordinary in the sense that most would understand it, here there were only killers and those that knew how to make them. Alexei roughly grabbed a hold of her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes as he spoke to her though his words were not the warm ones that would be exchanged between a married couple. They were orders and nothing more. 

"You know your mission, little one. If you fail tonight it'll be the last time you do."

And that, that was how she knew that if she slipped up even a tiny bit, there was a bullet with her name on it in the chamber of a gun, to be fired by a nameless assassin to earn their stripes.

Some awareness seeped into the sleeping redheads mind, it tortured her when she went back to this place in her dreams, it tortured her when she saw the faces of those that she'd killed when she was asleep, but tonight it took her back to a torture far worse than that in her eyes. Tonight, it took her to a convoluted version of what had happened over a decade ago.

And she snapped back, all awareness failing, washing away like water from a stream into the sea, and there she was, back there with cold metal strapped to her thigh as she took in orders. It was a simple seduction mission, the kind she'd done hundreds of times before but the fact that they were warning her against failure told her that they hadn't forgotten how she'd faltered, and the fact that they wanted to remind her that her life was entirely in their hands.


	2. I could be your perfect disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha's mission goes awry when her orders change, but remember: It's only a dream, so why is it tearing her apart so much?

The bar was too well lit for her liking; she could hear the buzz of electricity running through the bulbs and she cursed her enhancements tonight. The music was a dull thud in the background, overtaken by incessant chatter and the fake laughs of women who were enjoying the free drinks fawning men were flooding them with in the hopes of getting lucky tonight; she had never hated the human condition more than she did in times like this. People were so damn predictable it was almost boring. She could tell just from one glance which men were going to get anywhere and which were being strung along for their money and nothing else, and which women were being paid to be here rather than being any place because they wanted to be.

Wanted to be.

When was the last time she was anywhere she wanted to be? She could remember in brief glimpses, flashes of a rebellious young girl that wanted more than anything to break free of the grip of her captors, a girl that found herself caring deeply for a man just as broken and just as controlled as she was but that hadn't lasted too long; the guards to their prison hell had wiped both of them clean and now, what was only a mere year ago felt like an eternity in the way that it came to her in flashes, broken images and moments where she could feel her heart stop in her chest as the sadness threatened to crush her, but she shook it off. She was here to work, she had a mission and someone to win over; it was simple enough for a girl as beautiful as she was.

Wearing a beautiful, figure hugging black dress that set alight her red lips and her red hair against the backdrop of a bar painted in dull creams and light browns, its wooden floors long since seen better days, still stained with last nights alcohol from whatever event had happened here with spots here or there where cigarettes and other things had burned away at it leaving black marks dotted around making her wonder idly why they hadn't just replaced it by now, but then she knew there was probably little point to it. This was Moscow, people here tended to love the nightlife far too much to waste money trying to make it look too pretty; it would never last. She wound her way through the crowd of chatting people and headed toward the bar, avoiding more than a few men that turned her way and tried to get her attention.

Only one here tonight mattered; he was her mission and it was imperative that she got him to do what they wanted of him. If she didn't, they were both dead.

Green eyes looked bright and alive as they fell on her target and she slipped onto the bar stool next to him, cocking her head gently to the side causing her hair to fall from its composed place and over her shoulder as she tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth, studying him. 

"Can I buy you a drink or are you already spoken for?"

And just like that, her Russian accent was gone, replaced solely by a flawless American accent; it wasn't good to draw attention to herself and it was more likely to be believable if they were just two travelers that happened to be in the same place. It would seem far less suspicious, at least that was their theory. Personally, Natasha didn't have a preference; she wasn't there to be anything but the good soldier.

"Huh? What?" 

He blinked as he turned to look at her; his grey eyes were flecked here and there with a blue bright enough to look like topaz, she found it interesting and the confused look on his face as he studied her with his mouth slightly agape was actually quite  _cute._ Natasha laughed as she placed her finger gently beneath his chin to shut his mouth. 

"A drink. Would you like one?" 

Chivalry dictated the man bought the drinks, but if she wanted to get his attention this seemed as good a way as any to do it. He seemed to glance down at her hand, unsure if he should tense up or allow her to do exactly what she did, but when he didn't react in any negative way, she allowed her hand to fall back onto the top of the bar.

"Unless you've already got plans, anyway."

She shrugged, almost trying not to sound too dismissive. That would be bad, she had to win him over or both of their lives were forfeit only, his could be a long time before hers was if her orders here changed tonight. This was a seduction mission, not a kill but that could change with a simple word over the earpiece hidden beneath her hair, that was why she had her gun, after all.

"Uh, sure."

As he replied, Natasha offered him a bright smile; she'd done this so many times that she knew just how men wanted her to react. She raised her hand signalling the bartender as she offered double shots of Russia's finest Vodka, raising her glass in a toast as she pushed the glass toward him before she downed hers easily. Her expression did not shift even a little as the bitter liquid hit her tongue. She watched him bring the glass to his lips though he didn't take the liquid quite as easily as she had and that caused her to laugh, genuinely for the first time in quite some time as she offered him a sympathetic look, she held out her hand. 

"Natasha Romanoff, and you are?"Oh, she knew exactly who he was, but this was the perfect way to actually start some semblance of a normal conversation.

 _Remember, little Spider, you are not to fail us._ The voice over her earpiece made her expression falter for just a second; if you were untrained you'd have missed it entirely.

He took her hand, the warmth of his skin flooding through her fingers. 

"Clint Barton. It's uh, nice to meet you? I think."

She could tell that he wasn't used to this, she could tell that things like this simply did not happen to him and in truth, that made her a little curious. Picking up on his uncertainty immediately, Natasha smiled an easy, warm smile that she hoped would set him at ease; usually she was far more tactless than this and most men didn't care for the small talk anyway, but she had a feeling that this particular one quite enjoyed a conversation. It would take him longer to believe that she was interested, and that to her was a curious thing indeed. 

"You aren't used to people buying you drinks, Clint Barton?"She questioned playfully, and she watched him shake his head  _No_ very enthusiastically. Poor man.

"Women don't tend to be interested in a guy like me."

He rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke; a nervous response that she'd seen too many times, a response that she'd been trained to notice even if it wasn't already obvious. She could hear the lilts in his tone, the way that what he said clearly bothered him even if the easy, lopsided smile on his face seemed to want her to believe otherwise, and Natasha's expression softened. 

"Well, more fool them. You're a very handsome guy, and idiots that can't see that clearly isn't worth your time, anyway."She responded brightly, ordering another two drinks.

The fact that he found it so unbelievable that someone like her wanted to talk to him made her feel a pang of guilt.

As the night wore on, she found herself genuinely enjoying the chatter, his stories and the enthusiasm in the way he spoke about himself, the way he told her about the dog that he'd rescued, the way he told her about the fact that he'd wound up buying his whole apartment building because he had issues with the guy that owned it before... The Circus when he was a kid, though she knew there was much he was keeping out of those stories; she'd been trained expertly to tell the gaps in peoples stories and the sanitized replacements. She'd done it more than enough times herself.

She knew most of what the real story was, but she played along like she didn't, intent on getting her mission finished so that she could get out of the dull lights and back to... Well, back to anything but this. She hated these missions so much.

"Do you uh, do you wanna go for a walk or something? It's loud in here and uh, I think I've had a little too much to drink and I could really use some fresh air."

She could hear the sincerity in his voice; this wasn't a ploy for anything sinister he genuinely did just want fresh air, and to have the chance to talk to her anywhere but here and she found herself appreciating that. It made it almost worse.

Almost unbearable for her as they exited the bar and turned into the barely lit alleyway leading back to the street, and she pressed her gun to the back of his head and pulled the trigger. Blood rained down all over the floor and her feet as his body fell to the floor; her orders had changed.

And she bolted up in bed, awake in a cold sweat as her body trembled.

Her orders had changed. She'd killed him; it didn't matter if it was real or not, it  _felt_ real enough.


	3. Could you still hold me when it hurts?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning to real life, Nat processes her dream but she's struggling.

The night air prickled against her cold skin; she felt her body tensing as she curled into a tight ball, pulling her knees against her chest as she buried her head in there, shaky breaths felt like they burned her lungs. She felt him stir beside her, his hand moving to touch her shoulder and she shrugged it off, shifting over just out of his reach as she lifted her head and shook it.

"Don't." 

The soft warning broke her lips, shaky voice fighting hard not to break. Natasha didn't break. She was so much stronger than that; they'd made her so much stronger than that. She was their perfect little assassin, wasn't she?

"You're safe, Tasha. You're not there anymore." 

He knew. He always knew. He knew when she went back there in her dreams, she knew when it broke her apart inside and he always, always reassured her and she was never sure if she loved him or hated him for it. She wanted so desperately to be reassured and she hated it; she hated the weakness she so readily accepted as a part of her now because she had to be different. She couldn't be what she was. She had to be more, more human, more of a person and far better than the monster that they'd created because she had a life now, a life outside of what they'd turned her into and even though she resisted it she knew that it was the most important thing in the world to her. She didn't feel safe, but then she supposed she never would.

They were still out there and they could still get to her, hadn't they proved that already? They could still get to her, and that meant that they could take away everything she loved to punish her for her insolence.

They'd make her watch them die, if they didn't choose to wipe her first and make her pull the trigger; they were cruel enough to do both without batting an eye. 

Turning to look at him as he shifted toward her, Natasha uncurled her tight posture and released a deep sigh. 

"Did I cry out this time?" 

God, she hoped not. She hoped that she hadn't woken him up like that again. He shook his head though. No, she hadn't cried out, she hadn't screamed though she thought she would have. 

"No. You didn't." 

She could tell he hoped that would reassure her. 

"Which one was it?"

Which dream. He always made her talk about them, telling her that it'd be better for her if she didn't let it all live inside her head and make her a prisoner to it. 

"A new one. One that I just-- I couldn't live with it."It had hurt too damn much.

She'd felt like her heart was breaking the second she'd woken up and though she'd moved from his touch, all she wanted was the reassurance that he was there, alive and safe but she was still so afraid. The dream felt so real. 

"It's not real, Tasha. It's not. I promise you, we're okay.  _You're_ okay. You're safe now."

Safe. What a foreign concept.

Safe didn't exist in a world like this.

"They changed my orders the night we met and I killed you."She mumbled quietly, refusing to meet his eyes as she spoke.

She wished the hell that she didn't keep having these dreams; why did they still have such a hold over her after all this time?

He reminded her often enough that she was giving them too much power over her still, and she knew that he was right but he didn't know the way that it killed her inside, he didn't know what it was like to see their faces every time she closed her eyes these days; those that she'd killed haunted her like ghosts determined to drag her to hell right alongside them, and a part of her didn't blame them for it. She deserved that and worse for all the evils she'd committed over the years. Clint was adamant though that it wasn't her. She'd had no choice.

It wasn't her.

He knew her.

Clint's eyes were locked on hers as he turned her face gently to look at him. 

"I got you, okay? I got you and I'm not going anywhere."

He spoke with such certainty, how could he be so sure of her after everything that she'd done to him over the years? How could he look at her like this and swear that he'd be by her side forever knowing that she'd broken his heart so badly in the past? So much had happened since that day, so much had happened since she'd turned down his marriage proposal and walked out determined that he was better off without her and for a time, he'd moved on and she'd been happy for him; things with her and James were still so unfinished back then that she hadn't known what she wanted but Clint, Clint stuck with her no matter what whether it was as her best friend or her partner on missions, he always had her back.

He was an unwavering support and she knew it was far more than she deserved, but he still loved her even after all these years. Even after he'd gotten married and divorced, even after she'd given someone else the time she should have given him.

"Why?"She spoke, her voice finally finding some semblance of strength. 

"After everything I've done to you, after all I've put you through you still love me."

And a part of her would never understand it and she knew it; he could do so much better. Bobbi, Bobbi was better than she was in her eyes, at least she hadn't broken Clint the way she had. At least Bobbi was good to him. She still was, she couldn't fault Bobbi Morse for being a damn good friend to Clint, and in truth to her, too.

Natasha admired so few people, but she admired the blonde hero, admiration hard earned, mind. She wasn't the type of person to foolishly open herself up easily, but Clint trusted her so in time, Natasha had come around to the idea, then of course there was Kate. Clint's protege was a pain in the ass at the best of times, but Natasha had a sort of fondness for the girl; she reminded her of herself as a teenager, at least during the brief times she'd been able to think and act for herself.

They both shared a determined, rebellious nature and a determination to do whatever the hell they wanted to do only Kate could do it, she never could. Kate didn't have to face the evils that she did, and she was glad for that.

As long as she had strength in her body, no one would fall victim to them again.

"Because I love you. I've loved you since that first night in the bar and I loved you all those years no matter what. I learned quick from a series of mistakes that I couldn't replace you, Tasha. I couldn't feel for anyone what I did for you."

She watched the way that he shrank back slightly as he spoke, it was hard for him and she knew it. She'd hurt him so badly that a part of her - at least back then - didn't want him to forgive her. She didn't deserve forgiveness and that was why she'd never asked for it until recently. 

"I married Bob, and I loved her but she wasn't you just like I'm not Hunter to her. We both knew we weren't soul mate material but for a while, we found what we needed in each other and we thought that'd be enough but it wasn't. She wasn't you."

In that moment, Natasha found herself feeling sorry for Bobbi Morse because if what he said was even remotely true, she'd never stood a chance.

And strangely, she was also glad for it. If it had worked out with Bobbi, she wouldn't have what she had now and her world would still be cold and empty as though she was nothing more than their little robot; there had been no warmth within Natasha, nothing that gave her peace or solace until she'd finally lowered her defenses and allowed herself to trust him. 

"I had nothing."Natasha responded quietly. 

"Before you, I had nothing. No one gave a damn about me; I've lived a hell of a long time and I've never had anyone fight for me like you did. I've never had anyone by my side the way you are even when I tried like hell to push you away, you didn't go. You wouldn't leave me even if I swore to you it was what I wanted, you knew better. You're the first person to see through all the shit."The first person that hadn't been trained right alongside her, anyway.

James, Yelena... Hell, even Alexei way back when but they'd been raised in the same brutal world she was.

Clint hadn't. 

Everything he knew about her was hard earned and hard fought for. 

"Yeah well, someone had to show you that you were worth more. You're my best friend, Tasha. I had your back even before I had your heart."

Clints lips formed a lopsided grin as he spoke and she rolled her eyes. 

"Aw, come on! You know it's true."


	4. You and I won't part til we die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the baby! Well, actually she's not a baby but yeah. Momma Nat is protective.
> 
> ** UNFINISHED **

Glancing at the alarm on the bedside table, Natasha allowed a sort of calm to settle over her as a smile touched her lips and she turned back to look at Clint; it was almost 7am and that meant that their daughter would be up soon; it was her birthday in just two days time and in truth, Natasha had no idea how time seemed to slip away so quickly; it felt like only yesterday they'd welcomed their bright eyed, beautiful, intelligent baby into the world. 

"She's gonna be up soon."

She stated, feeling almost immediately happier than she'd been just moments ago, it was that of all things that reminded her that she was far, far away from where she was and that maybe - just maybe - he was right, and she was finally safe.

Whatever she was though, she'd protect her daughter with her life.

The sound of footsteps hitting the ground drew both of their eyes to their bedroom door and in bounded a very energetic four year old, her red hair matching her mothers but she had her fathers eyes. 

"Morning, Button." 

Clint grinned as his daughter dived onto the bed and almost immediately into the arms of her father. 

"You want pancakes for breakfast?"

He spoke softly and fondly to the little girl as she nodded her head enthusiastically, both of them turned to Natasha. Clint always swore she was a better cook than he was but in truth, she just knew how to make anything sweet; she'd always had a bit of a sweet tooth. He was the one that made all the serious stuff though she'd tried to learn over the years it just never seemed like she had time to crack it completely. It didn't stop her trying her hand at things every now and then. She'd only set fire to something about six times which for her was good going.

"Mom, this ones all on you."

Clint spoke, and Natasha shot him a playfully evil look reaching over to tickle the child in her fathers arms and she allowed a laugh to break her lips. 

"Momma nooo!"

The little girl spoke between giggles, squirming to get away from her mothers hands and Natasha finally found herself content again. Their family and their life was the best stability she could have asked for in life, not that she felt like she deserved it after everything that she'd done but the look of love in her daughters eyes made her believe that maybe she was more than just a monster. Monsters couldn't create a love that beautiful, and to her - even with the coolness she allowed to take over her in the field or when she was at SHIELD - this was the one place in the world that she could truly be herself, or at least the version of herself that mattered the most.

As a spy, she was used to pretending to be someone else, but there were no pretenses here.

"Alina Barton, you'd better not get a sugar rush, you hear me?" 

Pretending to scorn her four year old wasn't something that Natasha was good at, within seconds her expression cracked and she laughed right along with her daughter. 

"Pwomise, momma."

She watched her baby try to be all serious, and a gentle smile touched her features as she reached out to touch the childs cheek gently. 

"And _daddy_ better not give you milkshake on the way to school or I'll kick his butt."

And with that, she shot Clint a look that told him she was entirely serious, he'd done that a couple of weeks ago and she'd refused to sleep until 11pm the very day a very tired Natasha got back from a particularly trying mission. It had been hell, but there were worse reasons to be up when all you wanted to do was sleep; she could sleep any time, she'd never get this time with her child again. Sleep was something she could sacrifice, but then any good spy could.

"Whats mommy saying?! I'd never  _ever_ do that."

Clint grinned as he spoke, clearly lying but she didn't mind all that much. The relationship that Clint had with his daughter was nothing short of adorable. Natasha had never had a father or a mother, a family or anyone that cared about her and so she'd been damn sure determined to make sure that Alina didn't suffer the same fate as she had. Alina would have people around her that cared and two parents that loved her and would defend her with their lives.

She had her parents, aunts, uncles... People that'd do anything to see her smile and keep her safe and while Nat had been resistant to it all at first she couldn't have asked for a better group of people to raise her daughter around. Steve was a brilliant uncle though Alina had him wrapped around her little finger, never once in the three years since Alina learned to talk (Well, sort of talk anyway), Natasha had never heard Steve Rogers say no to a single thing the girl had asked for. It'd be adorable if she didn't come home covered in chocolate or with another stuffed animal half the time.

Kate absolutely loved to take her out places and like her father, teaching her to use a bow because the youngster had found Clint's about a year ago and she'd been obsessed with it ever since; she could very well be an olympic level archer by the time she hit her teenage years if Clint and Kate had anything to say about it. Bobbi brought her back toys from each country she found herself in on her missions, dolls mostly and while Natasha found them creepy, Alina absolutely  _loved_ them and so, she had a bedroom full of the damn things. Bruce had bought her a chemistry set for Christmas and she'd burned a hole clean through her carpet playing with it... James however seemed to think that Alina would share her mothers love for snow globes and so, he kept delivering them which she knew bothered Clint a little. Matt had taught her ASL... She had plenty of people around her that loved and cared for her.

Not to mention the new gadgets she came home with almost every time she went to visit Tony and Pepper.

"Alright, trouble: We need to get you fed and ready for school so mommy and daddy can get to planning your birthday party."

She still wasn't used to doing any of this; the day to day life she had with her daughter and the man she loved was something Natasha appreciated more than she could begin to explain but she felt, too, like it was fleeting.

All falling through her hands so fast like grains of sand and there was nothing she could do to make it stop. Next, she'd wake and Alina would be grown, next, she'd wake one day and maybe, she'd find this life of hers was nothing but a dream.

And what a heartbreaking day that would be, too.


End file.
